


Take Off Your Pants And Jacket

by deandratb, NorthernSerpent



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Car Sex, Episode s01e05: Heart of Darkness, F/M, Five Times Falice Banged and One Time They Didn't, Floor Sex, Mentioned Betty Cooper, Mentioned Darryl Doiley, Mentioned Dilton Doiley, Mentioned Gladys Jones, Mentioned Jellybean Jones - Freeform, Mentioned Jughead Jones, Mentioned Polly Cooper, Oral Sex, Pre-Canon, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 17:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17626157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deandratb/pseuds/deandratb, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernSerpent/pseuds/NorthernSerpent
Summary: So what if Alice and FP have the occasional hook-up over the years? It doesn't have to mean anything. Right?





	Take Off Your Pants And Jacket

**Author's Note:**

> Our first collaboration is a result of the fact that Alice and FP are missing from S01E5 Heart of Darkness. Betty claims that her mom was at a 'Women in Journalism Conference’ but we know better...

The first time barely counted. Alice was sure FP would agree with her on that. It was practically an accident.

Five years after graduation, Alice got an invitation in her email. She’d only been working at the Register for a year, so it was a pleasant surprise. It turned out she was a born investigative journalist—curious, stubborn, emotionally detached—but getting the job through marriage still made her feel like a phony sometimes.

When the invitation praised her for joining the ranks of ‘intrepid female reporters engaged in breaking local news,’ it was hard to ignore the pride she took in that. They’d noticed her work. It was validating.

And Hal encouraged her to go.

“You deserve it, hon,” he told her over breakfast. “Some time to yourself, a little getaway. Now that the paper’s in my name, I won’t be free for a vacation for a while—one of us should have fun.”

But the retreat she was expecting, full of amazing conversations with other women who were willing to piss people off for the sake of a story, never materialized. It was a glorified spa weekend, with seaweed and mud and watered down drinks. She snuck out at the first opportunity and headed for the nearest bar instead.

FP considered making it into the Army his biggest achievement—and really his only one, if he was honest—which made the end of his time there that much harder to face. He wasn’t trained for anything. He barely had a high school education. All that waited for him at home was his old gang and his dad, the asshole.

So after his discharge he didn’t think there was anything wrong with lingering in the city an extra day or two before catching a Greyhound back to Riverdale. Once he dumped his duffel in a cheap hotel room, he went looking for a barstool to haunt, and spotted Alice the moment he walked in.

What the fuck was Alice Smith—Alice Cooper now, he reminded himself—doing in this city? She belonged in her suburban house with her suburban husband. The Army might have steadied him, but it hadn’t done much for his temper, and time had no effect on how he felt about Hal Cooper.

“Jack Daniels,” FP told the bartender, enjoying the way Alice whipped around to stare, the moment she heard his voice. He was not too big a man to appreciate the reaction, and what it meant. He would recognize the sound of her anywhere, too. Mostly those throaty moans that still haunted his dreams, the ones that went along with the girl she’d been in his arms.

She was dressed for the Northside now, even though she was in a dive bar instead of their hometown. Her wide blue eyes seemed even bluer under her carefully applied makeup. And her perfect blonde waves weren’t nearly as hot as the wild curls she rocked in high school, but something about how carefully she’d styled her hair made him want his hands in it. Just to mess it back up, and make her look a little more human. More like the Alice he never stopped wanting.

“What are you doing here?” She arched an eyebrow, but her best attempt at disdain just made FP grin. It wasn’t as convincing as she thought it was. At least, not with him.

“I need a drink.” The bartender slid his whiskey across the bar, and FP took the seat next to her, lifting it in a mocking toast. “See?”

“I meant in Chicago, Forsythe. Weren’t you overseas?”

“Yeah, I was. I’m back.”

“Wait. Back, back? As in, home?

He shrugged. “You know how it is. I barely had one of those before I left. I doubt I’ll have one when I head back. But it is Riverdale I’m heading back to.”

It was hard to tell in the dim lighting, but it looked like all the color drained out of Alice before she rapped the bar with her knuckles. “Bartender? Another.”

“Not gonna lead the welcome wagon for this local son, are you? Bake cookies, or whatever you do now?”

“I’m not a housewife,” she snapped impatiently, waiting for her next shot. “I have a job! And it seems like I’m the only one in this unsolicited conversation who does, so there’s no need to be snide.”

“If you don’t want to talk me, then don’t. I didn’t start this,” he pointed out. “I came to get drunk.”

Alice laughed. “The only thing we have in common. Thank god,” she added, reaching for her tequila and chaser.

FP made it through his own second round, and Alice’s silence over another shot, before his curiosity won. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“I came for a conference. I work for the town paper.”

“Yeah, I heard that.” He smiled a little at her surprise. “I was in the Army, not on the moon.”

“Fair enough.” It didn’t explain why he’d cared enough to file the information away, but Alice wasn’t sure she really wanted to know why.

“So…” FP tapped his own fingers along the bar restlessly, shaking his head when the bartender looked his way. “You’re drinking alone by dinnertime. The conference must be going great.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s fabulous.” She rolled her eyes. “All the French manicures a girl could want.”

He blinked, not sure what to do with that information.

Alice tossed her hair back before he tried to guess and sighed. “I thought I got invited to a serious journalism event. My very first one. But it’s not about feminism—it’s about femininity. I couldn’t stand another round of deep breathing exercises or green juice while we talk about our feelings.”

Laughing, FP shoved his hands in his pockets. He was just sloppy enough to want to reach out, but not so drunk he could forget why that was a bad idea. “No wonder you’re here. It sounds like your personal hell.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said, “I love a good spa day once in a while. But I didn’t need to come all the way to Chicago to get a deep tissue massage. I’m just...not in the mood.”

This was danger too, he could feel it...but he could never resist pushing the line with Alice. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Another round of this perfectly mediocre tequila, and then early to bed.”

“Very sensible.” He was maybe a little more drunk than he thought, because he didn’t actually intend to say more. “Always sensible now, I’m guessing. Never a hair out of place, right, Alice Cooper?”

“Don’t do that, FP. Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? It’s your name, isn’t it? You’re his.”

“I’m mine,” she told him firmly. “Not his, not yours, not any man’s property, thank you very much. And I meant you should call me Alice, instead of using my full name like you just met me.”

“It’s been five years. Kind of is like we’re meeting all over again,” he pointed out. “We’re not the same, either of us.”

“You’re right.” But she shook her head. “Still, if you won’t just use my name, we’re going to have a problem.”

“Are we, now.”

“Yes.”

Alice leaned in, so close she almost slid off her barstool. He could smell tequila mixed with her expensive perfume, and it made his head spin a little.

“I think this was fate, FP Jones. All the cities in America, all the bars in Chicago, all the years since the last time we even had a conversation...and here we both are.”

“Fate.” He didn’t believe in it, but he didn’t think Alice did either. He just wanted to see where this was heading.

“Yes.” She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair. It was a little longer than he wore it in high school. It made him look older.

She liked it.

“So if we were supposed to be here together like this tonight, when it makes no sense at all, I think we should listen to fate.”

He leaned into her hand a little when she ran her nails over the back of his neck. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning I have an ugly but comfortable room at a really boring retreat, and I’d rather not sleep there alone. What do you say, FP? Come break the rules with me.”

“We were always good at that.” He reached for her hand and drew it off his neck. Alice’s eyes had just a moment to flicker disappointment and the beginnings of anger before he was kissing her.

The time between them fell away easily, along with all the other things they didn’t want to think about. One of his hands was fisted in her hair and hers were pulling him closer before either of them remembered they were in the middle of a crowd.

FP left her breathless when he sat back and gestured to the bartender. “Close out her tab, thanks.”

Luckily, they did not come across too many people after the pair made their hasty exit onto the street.  He stopped to kiss her several times, leaving her breathless and gasping each time before he continued on their way, his fingers firmly tangled in hers.

When they eventually arrived at her hotel, the elevator took less than ten seconds to arrive and it was—thankfully—empty. Alice took a deep breath, suddenly apprehensive at the lustful gleam in his eyes.

Alice stepped into the elevator, reaching out to tap the button for her floor. As soon as the doors closed his mouth was all over her, only backing away from her as they neared the floor. She frowned accusingly at him while she quickly gathered herself into some semblance of decency, too distracted to notice how badly FP had messed up her hair.

The doors dinged open and Alice sighed with relief to see that there was no one waiting. She had to get them into her hotel room before they got carried away in the middle of the corridor where anyone could bear witness to her indiscretions.

She rushed out of the elevator, FP just behind. Fumbling with her wallet, she tried to find the plastic key card but she was too distracted. FP had cupped one of her breasts and refused to let go.

“FP, anybody can see,” she seethed, even though she wasn’t trying terribly hard to get his hand off her.

Alice eventually got it right, and the door buzzed. FP finally let go as she pushed it open, following closely behind her.

Within seconds, FP had her pinned against the wall by the door, lips descending hungrily on hers as they hurriedly stripped themselves of their clothes. He pushed the door shut with one hand as Alice helped him yank down his pants and boxers in one go. He stepped out of them with his lips still locked on hers, kicking them away and kicking off his shoes, her bare breasts in his hands.

Alice felt his hands leave her breasts and cup the curve of her ass and she put her arms around his shoulders, spreading her legs as he lifted her up and moved forward, bending slightly to align his cock with her dripping entrance. It had been years since she felt so wanted and so ready—FP always knew just how to touch her.  

She couldn’t help the whimper that left her lips as his warm member slowly pushed its way past her entrance and up inside her. She spread her legs wider, wrapping one around his waist, the other planted firmly on the ground. Her pussy was so wet and slick with her cum that she sank onto his shaft with no hesitation. Full to the brim, Alice closed her eyes and moaned.

Alice could not believe how much pleasure he was giving her each time he thrust in and out of her. As his mouth locked on her nipples again, her eyes closed and she bit her lip, shuddering, not sure she could take anymore.

 _Fuck_ , FP still felt so amazing after all these years.

***

Alice did return home much more relaxed. She just never mentioned that her vacation ended up involving no alone time at all.

When Hal climbed into bed next to her and kissed her goodnight, Alice gave him a tight smile as the guilt twisted in the pit of her stomach.

She told herself what happened that weekend was a fluke. An anomaly. It didn’t _mean_ anything.

And it’s not like they actively sought each other out.

But it was almost too satisfying, having sex without the crushing pressure of a suffocating marriage. She didn’t regret letting herself feel alive again for the briefest of moments.

And FP kept his word, leaving her be as though there was no history between them, let alone anything new.

Eleven months and three weeks later, he answered the phone and found himself being invited back to Chicago. He was right; he recognized Alice’s voice immediately, even if he didn’t understand the invitation. After a whole year of silence, it was the last thing he expected.

But hell would freeze over before he gave up a chance to taste her again.

If the first time didn’t count, neither did the second. Unlike the first time there was forethought, but they didn’t actually _technically_ have sex.

In a much nicer hotel room in Chicago, clothes discarded haphazardly on the floor, Alice lowered her head and licked her tongue down his shaft, smiling at his harsh intake of breath.

FP groaned and buried his fingers in her hair. She sucked him in and out of her mouth as she stroked him with her fist, her other hand cupping his balls. As she bobbed her head up and down on his cock, she felt him shudder and shake under her ministrations and a thrill ran through her at how powerful it made her feel to be able to give him that much pleasure. She licked her way down his shaft and took his balls into her mouth, one at a time, carefully twirling her tongue around them.

"Oh yeah… Alice… You’re amazing..." he gasped as she licked the precum leaking from his tip.

Alice continued to run her tongue over the head of his cock before swallowing him into her mouth again and bobbing her head. FP groaned in pleasure as she sucked him, but he was soon insistently pulling at her hair.

"What?" Alice said as his cock popped out of her mouth, visibly annoyed at being interrupted. "Can't you see I'm busy, FP?"

"I want to taste you," he growled, pulling her up. "Come here ..."

"Oh. Well in that case. I think something can be arranged."

Alice moved herself into position, straddling FP’s head and lowering her very wet pussy over his face.

But that did not mean she had to stop blowing him.

He reached one hand down to knead a breast even as he used the other to grab her tattoo-covered hip as she settled over his mouth, stretching out on top of his torso.

As she enveloped him in her mouth again, FP tongue-kissed her centre, letting his tongue tease her swollen labia. With their mouths and fingers, they pleasured each other, unaware of the outside world as they slowly brought each other over the edge.

They never actually talked about their arrangement. Not after the first time, or the second. If those days didn’t really count—and it was essential that they didn’t—then really there was nothing to talk about, was there?

They didn’t have to talk about it to know the rules.

Creative fucking only, things they could justify to themselves once they were back in their own homes as not the same as sex.

Tell nobody, not friends or strangers or spouses. For all anyone knew, they hadn’t so much as spoken since high school.

Never meet in Riverdale or the surrounding Rockland County area, especially once there were kids involved. Small towns were a cesspool full of busybodies and unsolicited opinions, and they both knew all about growing up in the shadow of a parent’s soiled reputation.

And finally, leave all feelings at the door. This was not a relationship; it wasn’t even an affair. An affair implied intent and longevity, which was the opposite of what they were doing. It was just an escape from the shittiest parts of their real lives.

It wasn’t like it was a habit or anything. They saw each other sporadically, not on an annual basis. Alice didn’t reach out while she was pregnant with Polly, or the year Betty was born. FP wouldn’t have gone if she had—when Jughead was an infant, all he wanted was to stick close to home. They only made it to Chicago when the pressures of adulthood and its crushing loneliness were too much to bear.

As long as it stayed that way, neither of them had to think too hard about what they were doing.

***

Even unspoken rules had exceptions.

It was a hot day and the sun shone brightly down upon the crowd with inappropriate cheer. It was a day for picnics and paddle-boat rides down Sweetwater River. Not Darryl Doiley’s funeral.

They were at Darryl’s house, a box of greys and blacks made more sterile and brittle in its mourning of him. His son Dilton, the only child in attendance, hid in the corner behind a handheld console.

Poor kid.

FP stood in the doorway, arms crossed as he listened to family and friends wax alcohol-infused nostalgia, reliving their favorite moments with Darryl. It felt wrong being there… An intrusion of sorts. He didn’t belong with the man’s grieving wife and child, not when he only knew Darryl for a short time, a lifetime ago, when he was one of the Gamemasters of a game that unleashed hell upon them.

Alice stood at his side while nursing a wine glass. She was the sole representative of the Cooper Household. He assumed Hal was at home, like Gladys, caring for the rugrats. Their spouses had no connection to the deceased, and in his case, couldn’t understand the need to be present at the wake.

FP hadn’t been able to explain to Gladys what the Serpent king had in common with a random Northsider. He couldn’t tell her that their teenage history, long buried, made him feel a connection.

Darryl was dead.

It could have been any of them.

“I need to get out of here,” he whispered.

She simply raised an eyebrow and finished her drink before turning on her heel. “Follow me.”

After a moment, FP inconspicuously trailed behind until they reached her station-wagon parked just down the deserted street.

“I can’t believe Darryl’s gone,” she finally admitted. “I’m just… numb.”

What he wanted to ask was “Do you think it had something to do with Ascension Night?”

But he couldn’t allow himself to form the words to discuss the night that, by mutual agreement, had never happened.

Instead FP took a step and pressed his body against hers, pinning her back against her car. He let a hand reach up to brush a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “What can I do to help?”

“FP…” she breathed, simultaneously issuing a plea and a warning.

“Yes, Alice?”

He watched the emotions shift across her face: fear, guilt, longing. By the time she exhaled, relaxing against him, need had won.

“Help me feel.”

They fumbled out of their pants and their jackets. Right there in her backseat, parked at the side of the road, the two of them searched for solace in each other. They needed to feel something, anything that wasn’t the agony of loss, of lives that could have been lived.

They slid together, rocking comfortably on an unsteady sea, the waves coming closer and closer together as they panted quietly against each others’ mouths. The final wave broke over Alice, orgasm washing over her, pulling FP along. His hips bucked into hers as his own pleasure swept through him.

When it was over, neither wanted to be the first to speak, to break the bubble protecting them in the moment. Perhaps it was for the best, for what could possibly be said?

The fact that they could cross the line so easily, with no hesitation, not even a moment when one of them regained their better judgement—that was why they parted ways more determined than ever to make sure it was the last time.

***

It wasn’t so hard, to avoid each other completely. Alice just didn’t email him when she was setting up her annual retreat, and once a year FP pretended he didn’t know she was probably in a hotel room that weekend, all alone. Maybe even thinking about him, the way his mind kept going back to her.

Letting the years pass by felt like dodging a bullet. Alice couldn’t say she didn’t miss the excitement and the heat, but the longer she went without seeing his face, the easier it was to ignore the way she’d never stopped craving him.

And this was how it should be, FP in his trailer with his growing family and her at home with the girls. Whenever she remembered his mouth on her while she moaned, or fell asleep thinking about him wrapped around her instead of her own husband, Alice reminded herself of that. They were each where they belonged.

But it was easier to tell herself that than it was to tell FP, when he called her after six years of silence.

“Where are you?” She heard when she answered her phone. She hadn’t recognized the number, but there was always a chance it might be a source, or another reporter looking to swap leads, so Alice picked it up automatically.

“What?”

“It’s me,” FP said, as though there was any chance she hadn’t figured that out. “Are you in Chicago tonight?”

She frowned. “How did you get my cell phone number?”

FP’s heavy sigh echoed through the phone before he replied. “I asked around.”

“Right.”

Quiet settled between them; Alice could hear FP breathing while he waited for her next move. She knew what it would mean to keep talking, when she could hang up instead. When she should do exactly that.

“Yes,” she admitted instead, “I’m in Chicago.”

“Can I see you?” He hesitated. “Alice...I need to see you.”

It surprised her, when nothing about FP had surprised her in a long time. He’d never asked before. He took the invitations she offered.

“I’m only in the city until tomorrow,” she warned him.

“I’m downtown,” he countered, and Alice couldn’t help smiling. She would never admit it, but she had missed him.

“All right. Tell me where.”

Alice knocked on his door, smoothing her hair down while she listened for his approaching footsteps. Showing up at his hotel room when he’d always come to her before gave her the faintest fluttering of nerves, which she firmly chose to ignore.

She and FP went so far back, it was ridiculous to feel like this time was different. Like she was presenting herself for him.

_Even if that was true, if she was here because he said he needed her, and part of her heart raced when he said it...she would never admit it._

FP let her in so quickly, he must have been listening for her, too.

“Hey,” he muttered, shutting the door behind her before meeting her eye. His were bloodshot and a little unfocused, which would have surprised Alice more if she didn’t know him so well.

As soon as he broke their usual pattern to call her, she was sure something was wrong. FP’s demeanor confirmed that, and so did his embrace when he pulled her against him—kissing her hard, desperately, like he was underwater and searching for air.

He tasted like beer and regret. The bitterness on his tongue matched the pain in his eyes, and Alice knew she could have coaxed the truth out of him, but their arrangement spared her from asking questions or offering sympathy. Instead, she tugged his t-shirt over his head, drawing her nails lightly down his back while he kept kissing her.

He guided them to the double bed, unbuttoning her blouse and discarding it before he pushed her gently onto the soft bed and straddled her.

No matter how many times he saw them, FP never got tired of looking at her beautiful breasts, even if they were still encased in her sheer black bra.

He leaned in and kissed the soft skin between her breasts as his hands encircled her, reaching for the clasp in back. With one hand, his fingers expertly undid the clasp, and the elastic straps fell quickly. A stark contrast from the very first time he had tried undressing her, this time FP confidently pulled off her bra so her breasts were bare before him.

Alice arched her back, pushing her breast more fully in his mouth as his lips closed around it, trying to get as close as possible to him. While FP alternated between her breasts, she allowed her fingers to trace a path to the rapidly moistening juncture between her thighs.

She slipped a finger under the silky fabric and it was immediately coated in her juices.

FP caught her hand and licked her finger. “Patience, Alice. You’ll get to come. But remember, I’m in charge tonight.”

She arched an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. Whatever compelled FP to shake things up this way, she had no problem with it.

He took her other hand in his and raised them both above her head, pressing her wrists into the mattress. Once she followed his lead and held them in place, FP nodded his approval and let go.

Alice lay exposed beneath him now, wet and willing and beautiful. Any other time, he would already be sliding into her, enjoying the way it felt to fill her completely...but he needed more than that. He wanted to watch her come undone, to be the one sending her over the edge.

He needed to feel in control of something, now that the rest of his life had fallen apart.

FP refused to think about Gladys, and the screaming match between them before she took Jellybean and left town. He wasn’t going to feel guilty about the way Jughead had been watching him ever since, like he was someone different, who couldn’t be trusted.

He was going to focus on this moment until the rest of it washed away. All he wanted was Alice underneath him, desperate to come and begging for more.

Leaning down to kiss her, FP waited until the moment before their lips met, and then hovered, just out of reach. He listened to her breathing speed up as they almost kissed, as her mouth sought his and barely brushed against him. She pressed closer, her bare chest meeting his, her nipples stiff peaks that ached where they touched.

When he finally kissed her back, he swallowed her moan, feeling her whole body quake from the tension being released. He stroked his tongue along hers before moving to the curve of her neck.

Alice had a sensitive spot just below her ear that was one of FP’s favorites, and he sucked lightly at it, leaving a mark. Her hips rolled against him before he let go. He curled his fingertips there, smiling against the soft skin of her shoulder while he gripped her hips and enjoyed the way she hissed out a breath. She’d always been sensitive there, too.

FP’s mouth moved back down to her chest, kissing the swell of her breast and then the curve below it, circling closer to her nipple with his tongue. Before he made contact, he switched to her other breast, repeating the teasing, circling pattern as her heart pounded beneath him.

He reached one hand between them, waiting until his lips finally, slowly, met her hardened nipple and began to gently suck—at the same time stroking his fingers over her through her pants. Alice arched into his hand, and he could feel how hot and wet she was even with the fabric in the way. She moaned as the sensations collided, her clit throbbing where he touched while his mouth focused on her other nipple, surrounding it with warmth and flicking the tip with his tongue.

When FP removed his hand, Alice muttered his name disapprovingly, and he laughed.

“Patience, Alice.”

His fingers moved to the waistband of her pants, and she squirmed beneath him. Instead of slipping his hand where hers had been and relieving the pressure that was building, he shifted off her and began sliding them down her legs until she was bared before him in just a strip of black silk.

FP followed the movement of her pants with his mouth, kissing down her stomach to the inside of her thighs, loving the way she immediately spread her legs wider to give him access. But he was in no hurry, trailing his tongue along the delicate skin there, listening to her start to pant as his mouth moved closer to her center.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against her skin.  

“I want your mouth on me. I want you to taste me.”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

FP knew he was pushing his luck. He fully expected her to smack him over the head so he was pleasantly surprised when she curled her fists into the bedsheet and let out a frustrated groan.

“God, please… FP… _Just fuck me with your tongue already_.”

Grinning, he lifted his head before making contact, reaching up with one hand to cup her breast and letting the other brush her through her panties. When he angled his hand so the flat of his palm pressed firmly against her, she bucked into it and cried out as the sensation rippled through her. Only then did he replace his hand with his mouth, kissing her though the silk and letting his lips rub against her clit.

His thumb and index finger gripped her nipple and rolled it before he tugged her thong off with his other hand. FP tasted her again with one long, slow lick up her folds.

“Mm, I missed this,” he told her as he took in her scent.

Reaching back up with both hands to brush her tender nipples, he settled his head between her thighs and began to stroke her clit with his tongue. He alternated the pressure, circling in one direction before pressing a kiss against the throbbing bundle of nerves that made her shake beneath him, then circling the other way.

Every time she started to get close to the edge, he backed off, his mouth moving down to her opening and his hands gliding over her ribcage. Then he returned, her movements beneath him and her breathy moans growing more frantic each time.   

He waited until she was moving against him impatiently to shift his hand to her dripping entrance, sliding two fingers in. Feeling Alice so wet and open for him, so ready, when this was right on the edge of their rules, FP hardened in response.

He pushed his fingers deeper, rubbing her clit with his thumb at the same time, then replacing it with his mouth.

Alice moaned his name as he took her higher, his hand stroking her inside and out, his mouth brushing unrelenting pressure against her clit. She could feel herself starting to get there, the light going blinding white behind her closed eyes...and then her whole body shuddered as FP pulled his hand away, replacing it with his mouth again.

“Oh, fuck,” she breathed out, her hips twitching up. “God, don’t stop...”

As she strained to press herself closer to his face, he licked long and slow up her center, teasing her opening with his tongue before the flat of his tongue hit her full, throbbing clit.

She gripped the sheet and groaned while he lapped at her swollen folds, stroking her center slowly and firmly until she hit the sharp peak of her orgasm, screaming his name.

FP pressed another kiss against her while she came down, making Alice arch into his mouth as aftershocks rocked through her.

Once her breathing had evened out, Alice planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth, inconsistently sweet with what they had just done. The evidence of her arousal lingered on his lips.

“Don’t look so smug.”

FP just laughed before burying his face in her neck. Any coherent thought went out the window the moment he started nipping on _that_ spot again.

Alice hands traced the lines of his tattoo as they curved around his midsection, touches falling somewhere between a caress and pure exploration. She had never quite touched him like that before; it was the closest they’d ever been to intimacy.

She continued heading towards the waistband of his jeans, deft fingers searching for his fly. It didn’t seem fair that FP had made her come so undone when he had yet to take his pants off.

“I’ve got condoms,” he muttered, his soft breath sending a shiver down her spine.

Alice recognized the out he was offering—one last chance to stick to their workaround. She couldn’t bring herself to accept. She wanted this. She wanted _him_.

“What are you waiting for? Go get them.”

FP had nothing to lose but his clothes. The moments he spent away from her felt like forever, and he delighted in the impatient, primal sounds Alice made when he got back to kissing her. Lying on her back, she reached down and gently took hold of his cock, guiding it towards her entrance.

“Fuck, Alice. You feel so good.”

She was still drenched from his hands and mouth on her, making FP feel even more amazing inside her. They got lost in each other instantly, the heightened sensation of their bodies coming together, skin slick and hot as they moved together. Rising pleasure surrounded them, breath mingled together, moans getting louder and more erratic.

Soon Alice was trembling beneath him, surrendering to her own pleasure. His name fell from her lips like a prayer when she came, and FP followed her off the edge. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

Warm and sated, they fell asleep tangled together without caring about what it meant. It was the most contentment either of them would find for years, as a shocking death would soon turn both their worlds upside down.

****

In the weeks after Jason Blossom’s disappearance sent Riverdale into turmoil, FP focused on Serpent business. He spent his time at the Whyte Wyrm, trying to guard against any more unpleasant surprises on his territory. And he did his best not to think about the town’s golden boy at all.

Still, news of the body and folks swapping rumors on the riverbanks reached him as soon as Jason Blossom was found. His head swam with possibilities, each worse than the last. He would be caught; he would be killed to cover up the truth; Jughead would be killed because he failed.

FP had years of mistakes to live with, from teenage pride to fatherly neglect, but getting pulled into the murder of a kid was worse than he had ever thought himself capable of. It was too much to handle, more than even alcohol could chase away.

Finally, FP’s mind found something else to grab onto, some memory that wasn't saturated with painful loss and regret. He thought of Alice, of how they grew up circling each other. When they were kids, they had hated each other, ran in the opposite direction for fear of catching cooties.

As teenagers when they were both angry, lonely, hormonal, and afraid, they fumbled with their zippers among the trees of Fox Forest. The only loss that day had been of their virginity. A sweet, lingeringly pleasant loss—albeit quite anti-climatic— that never quite led to a relationship, but which cemented the foundation of their relationship into adulthood.

FP knew in his mind’s eye that everything about reaching out to Alice Cooper after two years of radio silence was a bad idea.

But bad ideas with Alice were one of the only constants left in his life.

_Besides, she didn’t seem to mind the last time._

“Is it this weekend?”

There was only the slightest pause on the other end of the line. “FP, you really need to work on your phone etiquette. Most people start with hello.”

“We’re not most people. Is your retreat this weekend or not?”

“The retreat is this weekend, yes. But I’m not going.”

“What do you mean you’re not going?”

Alice sighed. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Riverdale is in chaos. News is breaking by the minute. There’s too much happening for me to run off to Chicago.”

“Seems to me like that’s exactly why you should take the vacation. You sound tense.”

“And you sound desperate,” she snapped back, insulted.

“Do I really?” FP’s voice dropped to the low growl he usually reserved for moments up close and personal. It always made her tremble.

“No. Not really. This just isn’t...how we do this, FP.”

“Things change. You should come.”

“Don’t you mean I should go?”

He chuckled. “You heard me.”

Alice cleared her throat, very aware of her surroundings all of a sudden. The last thing she needed to do was start thinking about sex with FP while she typed up copy at the Register. She could already feel a flush creeping across her skin.

And he knew it too, she decided, when his whisper travelled through the line. “Come on, Alice, it’s only two days.”

It wasn’t fair for him to sound so intimate, from so far away. The tracks that separated them might as well have been an ocean, given the different worlds they lived in. The only way to close the distance was to avoid it completely. To be somewhere else.

It wasn’t as though her year was so easy. It hurt waking up every day and remembering that Polly was with the Sisters. Nothing she said seemed to get through to Betty, who was stubbornly clinging to bad influences and defying her at every turn. The paper was all she had, and even that was ultimately in Hal’s control.

Jason’s memorial was that coming weekend, and while the entire town had been invited, it was no secret that Alice was not welcome. Penelope’s fist had made it clear.

_Somewhere else sounded pretty good right now._

When FP knocked and Alice let him in, it felt like no time had passed since the last time they’d been there. Same fancy hotel, same door FP pushed her up against, same lake-sized bed that waited for them.

“So,” Alice said when she pulled away from his kiss hello. “This is a surprise.”

“Let’s skip the small talk. You and I both know what’s going to happen.”

“And what exactly do you think is going to happen?”

“I’m going to help you relax,” he took a step and tugged on her sash. “That’s why you come to these things, isn’t it? To _relax_?”

“What do you get out of it?” she asked forcefully. Just because her robe was opened and he was still fully-dressed did not mean that he had the upper-hand.

“Free room service,” he shrugged.

She didn’t ask any other questions, and for that he was thankful. He didn’t drive all the way to the city to _talk_.

No, he came to Chicago because he wanted to forget.

Alice knew what he was asking when he reached out after all these years. Who would have thought that she would have actually agreed? That she would have again risked losing everything—her marriage, her job, the little bit of respect her daughters still held.

But there she was, frantically riding him on the carpet of a hotel room and getting ready to cry out in what would be her second orgasm in fifteen minutes. She let out a soft hiss as he started thrusting back up into her, fucking her back, kneading her tits in his hands.

"Fuck, FP... yes… just like that…give it to me...”

Alice rode him hard, bouncing on her heels and grinding her hips over him. Her eyes were tightly shut and she cried out as FP cupped her breasts in his hands, teasing her hardened nipples with eager fingers. He suddenly raised his head up and took one into his mouth, sucking hard and making her gasp.

A moment, and then his head fell back, her nipple popping out of his mouth, and she continued to slide up and down his shaft as his hands reached for her breasts again. Alice opened her eyes, gazing down at the man under her.

Why did this always feel so right?

Whether it was rough and frantic between them or rarely, surprisingly tender...they always knew just how to take each other away, how to escape.

Alice reached between them to rub her clit as his driving thrusts sped up, their straining bodies racing each other to come. Between FP’s hands on her breasts, her circling fingers, and the glorious feeling of him filling her, her orgasm shattered her like an earthquake.

Alice gushing around him pulled FP right after. He buried his face in her mussed hair and came inside her with a low groan.

FP stayed true to his word. They both spent their weekends very well relaxed. For less than 36 little hours, they allowed themselves to let go, to forget, to distract each other from all the wrong choices they had ever made.

These stolen weekends away were not a permanent fix. Like always, they parted without so much as a hug. As if nothing happened, Alice returned to her Northside life, and FP stumbled into an empty trailer.

_***_

A few weeks later, Alice spotted FP parking his truck on the street outside her house.

How dare he just show up that way, next door, as though he had the right? She didn’t get in his space at the Whyte Wyrm. No matter how rough things were this year, this was a rule they didn’t—couldn’t—break.

Grabbing a jacket when she saw him leave the Andrews’ house, Alice had to stop herself from slamming her front door on the way out. She didn’t want to get anyone’s attention; that was the reason she needed to confront FP in the first place.

He had to know this was a step too far. Jughead and Betty, _their children_ , were just a few yards away getting closer to each other. They were on a crusade to uncover the dark underbelly of Riverdale, and there was no way in hell that Alice would allow them to unravel her secrets.

“FP…” she stated, arms crossed, venom dripping from her words. “As block captain of the Neighborhood Watch, I am obligated to ask you what you're doing on this side of town.”

FP knew exactly why Alice’s defensive shields were in place, making her colder than usual, but he refused to let her push him around. She could be as mad as she wanted. He wouldn’t let anyone try to keep him from his son, especially the woman whose daughter had invited him.

The same woman who’d been moaning his name less than a month ago, now back to being so carefully contained as she stared down her nose at him.

“Don't act so high and mighty, Alice,” he took a step toward her. _“_ You may not live on the Southside anymore, you may not dress like you're from the Southside, but we both know the truth—s _nakes don't shed their skin so easily.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from the Blink-182 album of the same name.


End file.
